


Crossing Sticky Lines

by delen2000



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Another easy mission, Coulson loves Skye, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Frustration, Skye loves Coulson, Skye rescues Coulson, Trapped In A Closet, coulson feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delen2000/pseuds/delen2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe I just like seeing Coulson suffer, he is so good at it!  A mission that was supposed to go easy, goes really sideways on Coulson and Skye.  They have to wait hidden until the others can get them out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stuck Behind Enemy Lines

Skye sighed and banged her head up against the inside door of the storage room they had found and she had locked to keep the Hydra people from finding them. This was supposed to be easy, her and Coulson sneak in and she would download the Intel they need while simultaneously infecting them with software designed to destroy all of their files. In true Coulson fashion, everything went to plan until the very end, where they were discovered and a firefight broke out with Hydra shooting real bullets at them. Since Skye had designed the whole op, she had religiously poured over the blueprints of the compound and she knew where she was going to get them away. They darted around some corners and through a maze of hallways and gave Hydra the slip by dropping a couple of smoke bombs and a tear gas canister at the right time. Skye then found a heating duct she thought would get them far away, and they were able to relocate to what looked like an abandoned area of the compound. Coulson spotted a door in the corner and pulled her into the dark closet. They quietly shut the door locking it, Coulson retreated to the dark corner and Skye leaned with her forehead against the door trying to get her breath and to just try to think. 

She banged her head up against the door again, despite the soft noise it was making. She heard another soft noise behind her and she swung around quickly, even though the closet was too dark to see much. She whipped out her phone and scanned the area around her with the flashlight option, and promptly landed on Coulson’s sweaty and obviously in-pain-face. With a gasp, she fell to her knees where he had sat, or what it looked like, fell to the floor, and placed the phone beside her thigh to give them some light, without shining it in his face, and freeing her hands.

“What’s wrong? Were you hit?” She asked in a harsh whisper, her concern flowing through her words. He gave a sharp nod and gestured to his stomach with his hands. Hurriedly, she pulled off his jacket, his bullet proof vest and then laid him down on the floor and then focused on the clothing covering the area that she could see the blood spreading from. Swiftly, she unbuttoned his button-down shirt and parted it so he was still wearing it, but so that she could see the injury. Without ceremony she unbuckled his pants and yanked his undershirt up high enough to see what was going on. She clinically and searchingly ran her hands up his side and back, looking for an exit wound and not finding one. She then picked her phone back up and investigated the wound carefully. She poked around and even stuck her finger in slightly to see if she could feel the bullet, if it hadn’t gone too far in. 

“Are you feeling dizzy or faint? Is it hard to breathe or do you feel like anything else is wrong? Is your heart beating faster or something like that?” Jemma had taught her some first aid that was likely to be needed on missions, and gunshots were high on the list. As long as the patient wasn’t shot in a really bad place, like nicked an artery or a lung, the patient should be made comfortable, given pain relief and the bleeding should be stopped. 

“No, I feel a little weak and shaky, but that’s to be expected.” He said quietly.  
Skye got up and took her phone searching her space for supplies. It was a supply closet, so at least they had luck on their side there. She found a box of feminine napkins in a stack mean to supply bathrooms and paper towels. There were some snack foods to supply a break room and even some medications that were in little packets to resupply a first aid kit somewhere in this section. Everything was dusty and Skye read the expiration dates on one of the packets, it was over three years old. She gathered everything into an empty box she found and hurried over to Coulson. The space he was in was not very large. The closet had three rows of shelving and space on either side of the ends to access them. The walkway, where Coulson was at, was maybe a nine by six area, enough room to bring a cart to load and unload supplies and that was about it. 

She came directly to his side spilling all the contents out beside her and then organizing what she needed to, right next to her. She handed the phone to Coulson and ordered him to aim it where she needed it, and then competently began to unpack the pads from their box. She started to lay them across his body, where he was shot and even unpeeled the backs on the first layer so that the second layer, which she crisscrossed over the first, could stick more firmly. Then she took packaging tape and taped the whole dressing down tightly to his body and sealed it in to keep out dirt and germs. She handed him a can of soda and the aspirin she had found and took the phone back so that he could use his hands. While he propped himself up enough to pop the medicine into his mouth and take a drink of the soda she took the remaining items and started to place them up by the wall, next to Coulson’s head. She sat down behind him and crossed her legs, Indian style, and waited for him to put his soda down on the ground beside him. She then grabbed him under the armpits and hauled with all her might to bring his head even with the space her legs provided. She folded her jacket up and tucked it under his head to make him more comfortable and spread his jacket over his upper body like a blanket. She then rested her arms next to his head, onto the top of her thighs and looked down at him.

He sighed a little and snuggled into the jacket for warmth. The floor wasn’t too warm and the bullet wound, although not putting him into shock, wasn’t helping with the temperature. When the meds wore off he probably would spike a low fever in response to the pain, he always had. Skye reached for his soda, took a drink and then poured some on a paper towel, and wiped at her hands to remove some of the blood that remained on her hands. 

They sat in mostly silence, hoping that no one would find them in the next couple of minutes. When Skye thought enough time had gone by, at least a couple of hours had passed, which was enough time for a complete search of the building, she figured she could chance communicating with the team.. It seemed as though the area they were in had been completely bypassed in the search. Really, no one would suspect they were in there. There were no footprints left on dusty floors, no finger prints left on any door handles as they hadn’t used any to get in here, except the one on the door they were behind. There was little evidence that this room had been disturbed by them, let alone the surrounding area. She dug out her communicator, a specially designed walkie-talkie of sorts that Fitz had designed and could work past jamming and disguises its own signature so that others couldn’t find it to tap it. Trip had the other one. She activated it.

“Hey Trip.” Skye said quite casually, as though she were just talking on the phone to a friend. They had devised a very casual code that would not sound like an S.O.S. call that would lead a very lucky Hydra hacker right to their hiding spot. 

“Hey! What’s up Mary?”

“Oh, nothing much, I was just wondering when I was going to see you next?”

“Me and June were just discussing that the other day! We think we can see you guys before the month is up. How have you guys been, since we’ve seen you two?”

“I’ve been fine but A.C. has seen better days, not feeling well at all. Well I’ll let you go, because I’ve got things to do today.”

“K, we’ll see you as soon as we can.”

She put the device back in her pocket. She sighed. Less than a month meant closer to an entire day in their loose code.

“I hate that code you and Trip worked out, it takes too long to say what you need to.” Coulson said from between her knees. 

In the darkness, her eyes had adjusted and she could sort of make out Coulson’s body from the surrounding darkness. She still jumped a little at his voice; he had been silent so long that she had thought he had gone to sleep or passed out. She had been checking his bandages every half hour or so, and so far he hadn’t bleed through, but she was going to have to change them in the next couple of hours or so, to avoid infection and the wound sticking to the dressings. She reached over him now to move her hand over the bandage to check for seepage, and answered him.

“ I will take that into consideration, sir.” Skye said with a little bit of cheek in her tone.

“I’m serious, you could have said, we are locked up in a closet, Coulson got shot, come a.s.a.p., and been done. Instead you have to be on there forever, likening the chance that someone could be listening. “

“Well, sir, we weren’t on that long, and if someone was listening, they wouldn’t have any idea who was talking or what they were talking about. But seriously, I will look into it when we get back.”

She felt him shift against her legs and she realized how long she had been sitting there, she doubted she could feel her own legs, they must be close to dead by now. Absently, she began to stroke her hands down the sides of his face, partly to comfort him and partly to calm him down. He moved his head back so that the top of his head was nearly touching her stomach, presumably to get a look at her face to see what she was doing. He slowly lowered his chin back down when the light wouldn’t let him see her clearly. She continued to stroke his face with her fingertips, from his brow line to his chin, over and over again.

Over the course of the next hour, she varied her strokes, sometimes brushing over his forehead, sometimes under his chin, other times passing through his hair, or scratching down his neck. It kept her occupied and him calm and it was enough for her to continue.

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” She asked him softly. 

“Then I wouldn’t be able to feel the wonderful things you are doing.” He answered just as softly.

“Still, it will only help you heal, gather your strength, that sort of thing.”

He was just about to answer when a noise sounded in the room outside of the closet. With deadly concentration, Skye swung her hands down from his face and in one motion, grabbed an I.C.E.R. from her right hip and a real gun from her left hip and aimed the I.C.E.R. at the door, resting the gun upon his chest, until she needed it, or if she was hit, he could use it. May had taught her well, she made not one sound and sat still as can be, not even breathing as she waited for that door to burst open. Minutes passed, and Skye took very shallow breaths from time to time, but other than that, did not move. 

Another sound finally sounded, but it seemed as if it were in the hallway on the other side of the room, far away from them. Still she didn’t move. After thirty minutes, she conceded that it must have been whomever it was leaving the room, possibly still searching for them, or a coincidence, that they were grabbing something they needed from the abandoned room. She holstered both the I.C.E.R. and the gun and returned her hands to his head. 

“I hate to bring this up, but I need to use the restroom.” Coulson said in a voice that obviously expressed his displeasure with the necessity of having to ask her for help with this task. 

With the same displeasure in her voice, she asked, “”What do you need to do? A number one or a number two?” 

“Number one.” The ‘thank, God’, was implied, but Skye heard it all the same. Her legs were more than just numb but she powered through, making them move even though she truly could not feel them. She gently raised his head up and slipped out from under him, and lowered his head and her coat to the ground and then riffled through the trashcan in the corner, by the door, with her phone’s flashlight. She didn’t have to look long till she found one of those wide mouthed, Gatorade-type bottles, complete with lid and empty. She made her way back to him and handed him the bottle. Turning off the flashlight, she stood before him and could hear him unzip his pants and rustle around a little and then she heard a painful grunt and a sigh come from him. The familiar pins-and-needles feeling was starting to spill all over her legs. She hopped a little to try to alleviate the pain.

“Skye, can you prop me up or something? It hurts too much to curl up enough to make this effective.” 

Skye could imagine that trying to use your stomach muscles to sit up enough to pee into a plastic container while keeping your balance and not spilling piss everywhere, and making you feel just short of screaming in pain and frustration was not a good option. She went back on the ground, behind him, and sat so that her back was firmly against the wall and her legs veed around his head, then she lifted his shoulders up and lay them over her legs as she slipped her toes under his back and manipulated him so that he was fully lying across her legs, and they were propping him up in the air. 

“Better?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said simply, and proceeded to take care of his business. When he was finished he put the lid on the container and zipped up, but didn’t bother to button up, the tightness of buttoning up his pants was starting to bother him, probably too much swelling around the area.

She gave him a minute and then slowly brought him back down to the position they had been in before, with her crossed legs and his head resting in between. She also went back to stroking his face, now with the back of her fingertips. 

Hours went by and he did fall asleep, only to awaken in a fright about two hours later.

When he came to, he was surrounded by Skye, her arms and body had almost enveloped his upper body in an effort to give him comfort, and to keep him still. She was bent over him from the back, legs still crossed under him, and her lips were near his ear, whispering, ‘come back’, ‘its just a nightmare’, and ‘it will all be alright’. Her right arm was around him, in almost a hug, going down his undershirt, and had her hand resting over his scar, directly over his heart. Her other hand was cupping his jaw and neck, he figured to keep him still, and not have his head hit hers. She had him in a firm grip and once she realized he was awake, relaxed her hands to stroke instead of restrain. 

“Are you ok?” She asked. “Your heart rate was all over the place and you were thrashing and yelling.”

He nodded once against the hand that still held him loosely, and the side of his face brushed against hers. She moved in a way that signaled to him she was going to move out of his space. His hands came up faster than he thought possible, and gripped her arms, holding them into place.

“Please, don’t move.” He begged, he never begs, but Skye would never hold it against him. “Not yet.”

She instead moved so that she was embracing him with both arms, her right still over the scar, her fingertips tracing the ridges absentmindedly. Her face pressed against the side of his face and she could feel wetness there, either left by tears or sweat.

Minutes went by and Skye held onto Coulson, even though her back ached and her knees popped. Finally, he indicated that she could sit back up, probably realizing the discomfort she was in. She sat fully up and stretched up against the wall, grunting as her back popped into place. Then she resumed stroking his face.

“What would I have to pay you to sit behind me everyday and do that for the rest of my life?” Coulson wondered out loud, truly enjoying the attention, and only half kidding. 

“Oh, A.C., you wouldn’t have to pay me anything.”

The sincerity stopped him short; he could tell that Skye was not kidding, at all. She was quite earnest and meant it. If he needed her to do this she would, and not because he was director and she was second, but because Skye wanted to do it for him, because she trusted him so much, even possibly loved him so much. Coulson knew that Skye loved him; hell she loved the whole team. They were a family of sorts. He didn’t know it was this deep though. He knew she would jump in front of a bullet for him, rescue him from death’s door, and even put up with the daily crap that was S.H.E.I.L.D. since the fall, but he didn’t know really what it meant till now. He was so struck dumb by the revelation, and by the almost heady feeling at being loved like that was doing to him, because if he weren’t already in love with Skye, it wouldn’t take much to push him over at this point.

He was about to reply when he heard footsteps outside the door. He froze and Skye grabbed her weapons again, and assumed the same stance as earlier.

From outside the door a man called softly through the storage door, “I think I Tripped back there on nothing.” 

Skye called back through the door, “Then you should watch where you are going.”

“Skye? How is the director?” 

“He needs Simmons, let me get the door open.” 

Skye handed Coulson the gun and still held her I.C.E.R., and unlocked and then opened the door, holding the device in front of her to sweep the area before letting Tripp into the closet. Tripp and May were the only ones on the other side and Skye flipped on the light so that the other two could assess the situation. 

“I stayed in blackout, to allude anybody who happened by.” Skye said unnecessarily. 

May grabbed her arm, to convey that she had done a good job, as Tripp went inside to help a blinking Coulson. May had a collapsible stretcher in her hands and they loaded up Coulson on it, who insisted he could walk if he had to, he had crawled through hundreds of feet of duct work and made it into the closet. May ignored him and grabbed the end by the feet, while Tripp grabbed the end at the head. Skye grabbed his coat, her coat, the Gatorade bottle (if Hydra did experiments on it, who knows what they would find), and any other things that might carry DNA or fingerprints, and put it all in that empty box she had used. She followed them out the door and to the rendezvous site.


	2. IV Lines

He’s groggy and not with it the first time he wakes up. He’s obviously in a hospital, and can clearly see Skye curled up in a chair next to his hospital bed, tablet precariously balanced on her knee and mostly hanging off. He blinks once and is out like a light.

Second time he wakes the chair is empty and the nurse that was poking him as she took his vitals, (that’s what woke him up) see’s that he is awake. “Good morning, just taking your temp and checking your heart rate and such.” His eyes didn’t stray from the chair and the tablet resting on it. “She just stepped out for a bit, needed food and a change of clothes, poor things been here night and day since you were brought in.” If the nurse said anything else, Coulson couldn’t have repeated it, because he had already fallen back asleep.

Next time he remembers waking, he was in the throes of a nightmare. He woke up surrounded by Skye, much like he had in the closet. She was behind him, with his bed completely flat and she had her hands in the exact same position and was saying the same things to him. Once she felt he was fully awake, she again loosened her hold to a comforting hold, rather than a restrictive one.

He again lifted his hands up to hold her to him so that she wouldn’t retreat. She buried her head into his neck and crisscrossed her arms over his chest. 

And he was quite sure that he loved her.

Before this, he would get twinges or even heart wrenches. When she had been kidnapped by Ward, he was too consumed with getting to her and then getting her out, that he had never stopped to wonder at the wrenching feeling he’d had at seeing her go off with Ward or seeing her come up out of the car. He hadn’t had time. Twelve hours in a dark closet had given him plenty of time.

He was also quite sure that she loved him.

He didn’t know why he was sure. She had never told him. He had never suspected, but again, twelve hours in a closet had given her plenty of time to show him. He and May had spent hours hiding from the enemy in the past and it never had left him feeling as though he were leaving something special behind when they were picked up later. When Trip had finally come for them, he was almost disappointed. Skye had made him very comfortable. 

She eventually moved back and sat down on a stool behind the bed, stroking the sides of his face, much as she had done in the closet. Coulson wondered if Skye knew what she felt or if she was just following instinct at this point. He surrendered to the comfort she offered and again drifted off to sleep.

It was dark, when next he woke. The first thing he noticed was Skye running her fingers through his hair. He blinked a few times, and then took her in. She was sitting in a chair very close to him, and it looked like she’d crossed her arms in front of her, leaning on the bed. Maybe she’d been sleeping on her arms at one point, but now the arm closest to him was raised up and lazily she let the fingers drag back through the hair, starting at his temple and then going back till she hit the pillow, and going back to his temple again. Her other hand still rested in the crook of her elbow. She stared at her hand going through his hair, over and over, as if in a trance. She obviously hadn’t noticed he was awake yet. 

“Hey.” He said softly.

Her fingers didn’t pause or jerk, but simply swung down a little further to touch his cheek and then continue to push up and back into his hair, and back to his cheek, a rhythmic, slow, welcome gesture. Her eyes focused on his at the sound of his voice and she waited a moment, stroking his face. He hummed in satisfaction and moved his face into her hand, craving more of her touch. She stilled and brought her hand to her side, rising from her chair and sitting on the side of his bed, and leaned over him, holding his face in her hands. His hands came up to hold her in place, just so that she knew it was welcome.

“How long have I been in here?’ He asked.

“Two days. You’ve been pretty out of it since your surgery. You do not react well to pain medication. It makes you groggy, gives you nightmares and you had a lot of trouble staying awake for any length of time.” She gave him the rundown. Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones.

His eyes closed. “What would I have to pay you to have you keep doing this?“ He wondered.

“Oh, A.C., all you have to do is ask.” Skye answered him. He opened his eyes. Their faces were very close, and quicker than Coulson thought he had strength for, he surged up and kissed her. Skye’s eyes went wide and her hands stilled. Coulson doubled down and grabbed her by the shoulders, deepening the kiss and pulling her closer. Then, almost incredibly, Skye relaxed and closed her eyes, melting into it, into him. Achingly slowly, she pulled her hands down from his cheeks, dragging them over his neck, stretching the skin as she passed over it and rested her hands on his shoulders. His body craved her touch and wished she could continue dragging her hands, passing them all over, awakening nerve endings, and shivers and just want from him. He just wanted so much in this moment. So much.

Slowly, he broke the kiss off and lifted his hands up to her cheeks and brought her forehead to his. Panting for breath, he chanced a look at her face, and immediately noticed the smile that was beaming from her lips, and answered with a grin of his own. He realized he probably looked love-happy and slightly stupid, but he didn’t care. Skye was happy. Skye had liked it. Skye had kissed back! 

“We get to do that a lot more, right?” Skye asked, slightly breathless. 

Coulson couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat, (because grown men don’t giggle!), and answered by kissing her again, but much less aggressively. They were in a hospital; it wasn’t the right place to start something this explosive. Skye seemed to understand, and broke it off first, laying her cheek against his and nuzzling a little.

“I love you.”

He hadn’t expected that!

But he really should have, because brave, honest Skye wasn’t about to start a relationship without laying all of her cards on the table. All of them.

“I love you, too.”

Coulson wasn’t about to back down now. 

Except, now he is tired again. He can feel the sleepiness coat him from the inside out. Can feel the way his arms get heavy and his eyelids droop. “I don’t want to sleep again. Wanna stay awake, with you.” He slurred out to Skye. 

It was Skye’s turn to chuckle, and she gently laid him back on his inclined bed pillow, and then lowered the bed a little bit, so he wasn’t sitting so upright. The last nurse in must have raised him upright for checking vitals or something. She sat back down in her seat and resumed her former position, stroking his scalp, running her fingers through his hair.

“Sleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You should sleep…go home…eat food…” He began to drift off.

“I should…but I won’t.” She said, just as his whole body went slack into sleep.

She smiled and picked up her Notepad and settled into her chair. She would stay till he woke back up.


	3. Fall Into Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure what happened here. Total mental block and then I just started writing, no plan, direction or idea. This could be an interesting ride.

Skye slept in the hotel room her and May had booked while dealing with Coulson in the hospital. She had pretty much landed on her stomach, diagonally across the queen bed with her feet hanging off the edge. She had been too exhausted to take off her clothes, her shoes, or crawl under the covers and had crashed, and slept where she fell. 

May had made her leave after Coulson had spent the past ten hours asleep. Skye had toughed it out because she had promised to be there when he woke up, but May had come in without ceremony and simply said, “Don’t be stupid.” Jerked her up by the arm and propelled her out of the room, “I’ll let him know what is up.” She said as she was closing the door behind Skye. Skye stood outside the door for a full five minutes, unsteady on her feet and trying to come to terms with what had occurred. It seemed like mere minutes ago she was dozing beside Coulson, and now she was standing in the hallway…. wait a minute, that was exactly what had happened! Once her brain caught up, and her feet would support her, she headed off to the hotel. It had been at least 36 hours since she had seen it last. May might have a point.

Slowly she came to wakefulness and rolled onto her back and groaned. She was sure she could keep sleeping if she took care of her bladder and changed into some nightwear, although she didn’t know how long she had slept. She slowly sat up and heaved herself to her feet, shuffling her way to the bathroom. On her way back she took notice of the alarm clock and saw that only five hours had passed, and May had not called, so she changed into some pajamas and this time got under the covers. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She awoke to her phone’s ringtone going off. She answered knowing it was May, without even checking the screen and answered it with her eyes closed. “Yeah, May?”

“There is no hurry, but you might want to get down here. He’s awake. He’s fine, but he is a little put out you are not here.” May seemed to sigh and Skye could here her rolling her eyes.

“Put him on the phone.” Skye said, still without opening her eyes.

There was a pause, and then, “Skye?” There was a little panic in his voice. Skye opened her eyes and then closed them again.

“Phil, what is wrong?” Skye asked gently.

Again a pause, “I…I just didn’t see you, and for some reason, everything just felt wrong.”

“Well, you definitely sound more awake than you have. The drugs must be wearing off, or they are giving you less of them. Phil, May is going to stay up there with you for awhile, while I sleep, and eat and take a shower, and then I’ll come back up there and spend the whole day with you, but May was right to throw me out, I was really tired and I’ll be back at the hospital really soon. Are they moving you to a regular room soon?” 

“I think they are. I don’t know why I feel so anxious that you aren’t here. And I know that if I made you come down here, I’d probably fall asleep before you get here. I can’t explain it.” Coulson sounded distressed at both his inability to control his feelings and at his feelings, simultaneously. 

“Its okay, have May do some meditation to help you calm down. I will be down as soon as I take care of myself. Right now I’d be afraid I’d have an accident on the way, I’m so tired.” As if to prove her point, a yawn almost split her jaw open with its intensity, and she still hadn’t opened her eyes, almost falling asleep while talking to him.

This seemed to calm him, more than anything else. “I can hear how tired you are. Go to sleep. May will take care of me.” He said it more confidently, but there was a sadness to his tone. 

The phone was almost falling out of Skye’s hand. “Night, I love” yawn. “You.”

She never heard him say it back.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

May sighed and rolled her eyes again. “You need to calm down. She will get here when she gets here.” May gracefully sat into the seat by his bed, and picked up one of Skye’s discarded magazines. “You’re going to give a girl a complex if you keep this up.” She huffed as she crossed her leg, flipped open the magazine and refused to look at him anymore.

“I don’t know what is wrong with me. It’s like I can’t help it, and I want to.” Phil sighed and rolled over to face May.

“Please…you know what’s wrong with you…I know what’s wrong with you.” She flipped another page and bounced her foot.

“Why don’t you tell me.” He threw at her.

She flicked her eyes at him and settled more into the chair. “You’re coming down off of strong meds, moderate blood loss, a gunshot wound, and a six hour surgery. You are awake more than fifteen minutes at a time for the first time in three days , you are well enough to be bored, but not well enough to do anything, and the one person you want to see more than anything …isn’t here. How did I do?” She gave him a long look, set her jaw and looked back at the magazine.

He sighed and was silent. She was right, and him asking the time and having her repeat what Skye had said when she sent her home and what Skye did when she was here, and if Skye had said anything to May that would make May believe that Skye wasn’t coming back…it was driving both of them crazy. It wasn’t anymore than May had said; Phil knew this to be true. Skye was exhausted, and she was sleeping and that was all. But it was hard for him to put three days worth of five to fifteen minute conversations and observations into a working picture. It was more like a jigsaw puzzle and none of the pieces fit together. Plus, his brain just wasn’t working right. May would tell him something and he’d forget like a minute later. His sense of humor was gone too. He was morose, desperate, and missing Skye. He was staying up a couple hours at a time, but he was still sleeping a couple hours at a time too, so every time he woke, he thought he’d see her, only to be greeted by May or an empty chair when May went for tea or food. Overall, he was happy that Skye wasn’t here to see him like this. 

He got drowsy and fell asleep, with May ignoring him, yet staying close by. She wasn’t about to leave him alone like this.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He awoke to an empty chair. He blinked several times. The depression kind of hit him hard all of the sudden and he found himself near tears. He took a couple of deep breaths, slow and steady. It was harder to get himself under control than it should be. He’s never taking painkillers again. 

A hand came out from behind him and caressed his face. At the feel of Skye’s hand, he lost the ability to hold back the tears, and a few leaked out. She sat down behind him, shushing him, and whispering comforting things. Her fingers wiped away the moisture from his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, Skye.” He said, helpless. “I can’t control it.”

“May warned me, and I kinda knew already. It’s okay. Instead of holding back, just let it rip.” She helped him to roll over on his back so he could see her better. And he raised the bed up to be level with her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Even as he said it, more tears fell down his face.

“Phil, if you need to feel sad and weepy for a minute, its okay. I’m here, I won’t judge, and we all have crappy, hormonal days like that. A pound of chocolate and a soak in a tub is a good cure, but we don’t have the luxury of that right now. Use my shoulder, get it out of your system, and nobody else will be the wiser.” Skye said with certainty.  


He tensed his hands into fists and then relaxed them, still in a loose fist. He sighed and breathed deep, tipping his head back to try to stem the tears that weren’t stopping. He beat his fists on his thighs, trying to distract with pain. Nothing was working, if anything, they were coming down faster. It wasn’t just getting shot, or missing Skye, or the drugs leaving his system. He knew it was everything that had happened since New York. It was Fury, and T.A.H.I.T.I., H.Y.D.R.A., Garrett and Ward, Skye almost flying out of Lola, restarting S.H.I.E.L.D, being in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D, hiding from Skye, and these stupid carving episodes. It was a lot, it was overwhelming and he was tired and felt wholly unable to deal with it all. He started to slowly lean toward Skye, and wound up diving for that space between her shoulder and neck. His nose hit her collarbone pretty hard, and his right fist slammed into her shoulder, while his left jabbed her in the right kidney. 

Skye had sat patiently waiting and when he finally broke, she sat solid and took his unexpected assault on her in stride. May had hit her harder in training. She took it and immediately wrapped her arms around his back, comforting, and being a unyielding wall he could fall apart on. His fist on her shoulder, rocked back and forth, flexed and grasped her sleeve in his fist as he clenched it again. The fist by her kidney had been replaced by him splaying his fingers out instead, and then gripping her side hard enough to bruise. He wailed and moaned and indeed let it all out. She became glad that May had shut the door behind her as she’d left. She didn’t say anything, just held him and let him go on and on.

He eventually slowed down after many minutes, and went slack, obviously worn out. His fingers relaxed and Skye was sure they had probably cramped as long as he had held them clenched. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, her shirt soaked with his tears. She kissed his temple slowly, and whispered, “Shy or worn out?” Because she could totally see straight-laced Coulson, being totally mortified that he let someone else, anybody else see the rawness of what was in him. That he couldn’t control it. That it was there at all. That he was fifty and he acted like a child that wasn’t getting their way in life. Really, any excuse he could come up with why this was not appropriate behavior. Coulson liked rules and order, especially when he knew what rules he could break. The structure they provided was what kept him sane, and now that there was no structure and he was out of order, he didn’t know what to do with that, and what was okay. Skye on the other hand functioned best without order and rules were all made to be broken if they were stupid rules. Coulson had done what he needed to, and that would always be all right with Skye.

He lifted his head up, but his eyes were cast downward. “A little bit of both, I think.” Weariness and wariness seemed to fight each other in his voice and he did look worn out to Skye. She gently lowered him back to the bed and got up to go to the bathroom. She grabbed a washcloth and ran it under hot water till it was soaked through and rung it out. She came back into the room and sat with her leg under her beside him on the bed a little closer than she had been. She then ran the cloth gently over his face, wiping all traces of tears away and finished by folding it into thirds and placing it over his eyes and pressing down lightly to take down some of the swelling. 

Taking the cloth off, she said, “I still love you. Even when you are out control. Even when you think you’ve done something wrong. Even when you have done something wrong. I love you.” She kissed him on the lips. She pulled back a little, and his eyes looked her straight in the eyes for the first time since he became aware of her presence that evening. “Now, go to sleep for awhile. They are probably gonna discharge you tomorrow, and the more rest you get, the more likely that is. We’ll talk, when you wake up next.” She assured him. He nodded, mute and looked at her for minute and then obeyed, closing his eyes. 

She sat holding his hand sitting beside him on the bed, watching old episodes of ‘The Voice’ on her tablet until he woke again.


	4. Hard Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Totally got Jossed halfway through this sucker, so I am going my own AU way. At least it was in the best way, and not entirely...since Coulson is still not telling Skye absolutely everything...unless there was more shown off screen, but at least I no longer want to punch him in the head.

Coulson was finally back at the Playground after four days in the hospital. Although the bullet had entered his lower abdomen on the left side, just under his vest, it had managed to miss every major organ, artery and vein, but had lodged itself, quite dramatically, right up against his spine. The resulting surgery was such that, almost every organ had to be lifted, moved or held out of the way as they approached it from his stomach instead of his back for reasons he didn’t understand. This causes extreme pain to the patient and while he heals, extremely strong painkillers were given to him. He finally had a handle on what had occurred and what was going on.

He was in his room, resting in his bed, and still off duty until he was completely off the painkillers and could run a mile again. He could go back in the field after he could run three. Right now Coulson was sure he’d be impressed if he could make it to the bathroom without pissing down his leg halfway there. 

Skye and May were both in their respective rooms getting some sleep. Skye had stayed up with him the whole rest of the day till he was discharged and stayed awake on the ride home to ensure that he was comfortable, while he was stretched out in the back seat. May had driven them back. 

What he wouldn’t give for Simmons to rush in with some technical information that he had no idea what it was she was talking about. At least it would be distracting. He sighed and flipped on his side. 

Just then the door opened and Skye walked in and crawled onto the bed and curled up to his side. It was obvious she was only half awake, but had probably not wanted to leave him alone. He kissed her forehead and covered her with the sheet he was under, sharing it, and they both drifted off.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

When he woke up, Skye was sitting, with her legs pulled up to her chin, on the bed by his side, waiting on him.

“We need to talk.”

That was all Coulson needed to feel everything he was hoping for crash inside of him, because, yeah, they did need to talk, a lot, and he was not looking forward to it.

He sighed and sat up, propped his pillows up with Skye’s help, and put his hands in his lap.

“What do you want to talk about?” Coulson was sure that his brain winced on that asinine question.

Skye quirked an eyebrow, “Are you limiting me, sir, or are you asking in hopes of starting a long list of subjects in an open and honest dialog?”

There was a pause, and that is when he realized exactly how smart Skye truly was. He had always known that she was a genius at the computer, but testing someone who barely made it out of high school limited their ability to qualify her on many things, so he had had no actual scores or data to have in front of him. But that question went beyond instinct, went beyond numbers on a test. She had seen that he was indeed limiting her to one question by his question; that it was asked in a way that appeared open and managed to get the upper hand in one answer.

“What do you want to start with?” He amended.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“I was shot.” Avoidance, he was now kicking himself. Lying by dodging the question was not going to earn him any points in Skye’s book.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He hesitated. Took a breath, and really tried to tell her. A struggling sound came out of his throat and his eyes got red and misty, his voice would be shaky if he managed it. He knew it would be shaky. He wanted to tell her. He looked down at his hands and shook his head slowly and shrugged his shoulders, and sighed again, gulping in air, tried to get a grip, slow down his heart rate, and calm down. She grabbed one of his hands and put her other hand on his shoulder, and ducked down to rest her forehead against his.

“After I got you away from Ward, and May came back, she showed me a level 10 communiqué between the agent in charge of Project T.A.H.I.T.I. and Fury. In it the agent was requesting that the project be shut down and it never be used unless in the extreme, like to save an Avenger, because the side affects were horrible, madness, death, other things. As I watched it, it was like watching a whole different person, because I don’t remember making the video, or being in charge or anything to do with the project, but it was definitely me resigning from the project, even though it doesn’t make any sense. I obviously didn’t quit S.H.I.E.L.D., they didn’t stop the project, and I don’t know what else they took from me…what other things I might have done, or that they made me do. And…and I am not doing too well. I write on the walls like Garrett and I have other symptoms as well, now my hands tremor.” He rubbed his hands in memory; Skye loosened her grip to his wrist, so that he could change his position. She ran her hand up his arm to his face, making sure not to lose contact with his skin. He looked directly into her eyes. “I am so scared…so scared, that something with me is going to transfer to you. That if I spend too much time with you, or talk to you too much, or if you come into contact with something the Guest has, its going to trigger you, and I am barely able to handle this. I did this to myself. I did this to people. Me. And someone did it to me, and that seems both fair and horribly unfair at the same time. I can just barely hang on myself…but you? If this happens to you, or if I hurt you, or if something happens to you…” Coulson lifted a hand to the side of her face caressing it. “I am not going to be able to deal with this anymore.” He said in a whispered, hoarse, terrible voice. 

Skye moved her other hand to his other cheek and kissed him deeply. She moved slightly away.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, and you are never going to hurt me…not like that.” Her thumbs wiped away his tears. “But keeping secrets from me, avoiding me like I have the plague, and trying to die on me…that’s going to hurt me, far worse than getting the symptoms of this serum ever would. You have the power to absolutely crush me, Phil. Be careful with that.”

He nodded and buried his head in her neck, wrapping his arms around her back in a fierce hug. “I’m sorry, Skye.” He still said in that broken voice.

“I know.”  
_____________________________________________________________________

“What else don’t I know?”

“Flip that panel over there.” He gestured to the wall.  
______________________________________________________________________

“Anything I need to know?” Coulson asked as he looked down at his hands.

“I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to get info out of Ward. He claims to know that my father is still alive based on Raina’s say so.” Skye said softly.

“Huh.” Coulson grunted.  
______________________________________________________________________

Somehow, Skye wound up laying snuggled up with Coulson, her back to his front. Somehow, this wasn’t hurting him, although, Skye had her doubts. Somehow, the last gut-wrenching hour didn’t tear them apart. Skye is really wondering about that one.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Coulson sighed deeply and asked, “Are we ok?”

Skye reached her hand back to caress his face. “Yes.” She said simply.

He hauled her up tighter against him and struggled a bit with the pain that crossed his stomach and lessened his hold slightly. “I will do better, Skye.”

“We both will.” She promised.


	5. Crossed Lines

It was several weeks later and Coulson could now run a mile…barely.

It had been a long, hard road getting even this far and he was fed up with his slow progress. Jemma had basically said flat out that his progress was way slower than it should be because of his age, and because of the effects of the GH serum. He was exhausted and didn’t eat well and it was slowing things up.

Things with him and Skye were good…but weird. He hadn’t really realized it till he took stock this morning, the first morning that he would officially be going back to work. 

Since that day that she had talked things out with him, she had slept in the same bed with him every night. She hadn’t officially moved in though. She hadn’t moved any clothes or personal things in, just her every night and she carefully removed all traces of herself the next morning before Tai Chi with May. 

They showered every day together when she was done with training. It had started because he was sure he’d fall and crack his head open if she didn’t come in and help hold him up. She had joined him that day and so far every day after, even though in the last week or so there is really no need to hold him up anymore. 

Despite all of these occurrences they had never had sex, not once. In fact, he hadn’t even tried for second base yet. He didn’t really know why. She was obviously willing. It was like he was soooo exhausted that he could not even bother to even think about progressing with Skye. Just the thought of possible sex, made his body excited but his mind exhausted. He wanted to, but really didn’t. It was complicated.

Now, as he sat at his desk, in a full suit and a stack of files, he wondered if it was so wise to put off intimacy with Skye. She was young and impulsive and maybe once he was better she’d go for someone younger, who wasn’t so much work. Then he immediately felt stupid for thinking like that. He sighed.

He needed to step up his game, he felt, and soon.

__________________________________________________________________________________

She was working out with May and was a little out of sorts because Coulson and her routine was going way off the tracks with his recovery. 

In the past three weeks, she would wake up first and snuggle into his warm, sleepy body, and try to make herself leave him. She would press a kiss to his chin and rise and head to the gym to do Tai Chi and then training/workout with May. By the time that was done, she would forego the shower in the gym and head straight for Coulson’s room and wake him and get into the shower with him. She would help him scrub his back and hair and get to touch him just about everywhere. Although they weren’t getting anywhere in the bedroom, because of his injury, she felt satisfied with what he could give her, and was willing to wait for more.

Today was different. Today he got up before her and went to train without lingering or kissing her as she was drifting in and out of consciousness. When she gets done with May, she might as well use the gym shower, because she saw Coulson walk by with barely a glance at her with a suit on and damp hair. She felt left out of the loop and somewhat tossed aside and it was affecting her concentration and it was pissing May off. She knew that, because right here, in mid thought strea---pow!

Skye was staring at May, who was now towering over her with some concern on her face. Skye was pretty sure that May had just ripped off part of her face with that punch, because she couldn’t feel most of it. 

“Are you alright” May asked as she helped her to sit up.

“Is my face still there?” Skye asked as she tried to get up the courage to feel for herself.

“Yes.”

“Oh, ok. Then yes, I am ok.” Skye said as she pressed her fingers carefully into the cheek, feeling for a broken cheekbone or something else. 

“What’s got you all distracted?”

“Coulson.” Skye didn’t even try to cover. It was May. There would be no point.

May sighed and hoped on one foot, crossing the other over, folding her arms over her chest and setting her jaw to one side.

“Skye.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. Skye sighed and rolled her eyes back and then heaved herself up so that she could at least talk to May on an even field. Well, as even a field as talking to May ever gets.

“May.’ Skye said back when she was fully upright and mirrored May’s position.

“What could possibly have happened to put you into such a state! Coulson’s recovery is going well, and he’s back to work today.” May exclaimed throwing one hand into the air in exasperation. “You need to focus, no matter what is happening no matter what you are feeling. The next HYDRA agent isn’t going to care if you are arguing with your boyfriend or not.” May folded her arms again and had that ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

“I know, May.” Skye said quietly, looking down and spacing her feet shoulder width apart. “And, we aren’t fighting.”

“If you’re not fighting and he’s doing well, what is it?” May bit off, thoroughly annoyed by the Skye and Phil saga she seemed to keep bumping into at every turn.

“He just….” Skye thrust her hands up in frustration and balled her hands into fists, then lowered them quickly to her sides, flexing them. “All he did was basically ignore me this morning. I mean it’s probably nothing, he was just excited about going to work and he had to move a lot of paper work over to the office from his bedroom. He’s so behind, and he has a one-track mind and all that other stuff. It’s just that, we worked as a team the whole last couple of weeks, and today, he didn’t include me at all, so far. I just wonder if now that he’s well he’s gonna start shutting me out and leaving me out. It’s silly.” She looked down at the ground and shook her head.

A hand came out of nowhere and landed on her shoulder. Skye looked up, startled that May was attempting comfort. “It’s not silly, but it has no place in here. In here, you could get hurt. In here, I don’t care if you’re having a bad day. Now do you need to go shower, or are you ready to focus.” May’s form of comfort wasn’t so much comforting.

Skye took a deep breath and tried to focus on the training and found it was really no use. Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry May, but I think I’m gonna use the shower.” 

May squeezed her shoulder. “I think that’s a good choice, because if you’d stayed, I was going to kick your ass.” May patted her shoulder and moved away to grab her towel and wipe her face and neck. “Get squared away with Coulson, take tomorrow off and then you better be ready on Wednesday.”

“Yes.” She nodded in agreement and looked over her shoulder, far off. “Ok, May.” Skye said and headed off to the showers.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

He felt good. He had worked most of the morning and into the afternoon. Simmons had stopped by with a sandwich and some soup and cautioned against overdoing it. He was starting to get the itch again and knew in a week he would have to carve. Last week he had succumbed to it, carving all night with May and Skye watching, and had passed out from the exertion of standing all night, when he had kept mostly to the gym and his bed. He was in no hurry to hit the floor unconscious and see that look on Skye’s face anytime soon. 

He looked up and realized that he hadn’t seen Skye. Except for that brief glance he’d given her at the gym, she hadn’t been by. He sort of faltered a minute, at a loss; he hadn’t gone a day without her since before he was shot. He tossed the file he was holding onto the stack of read files and sighed, stretched and leaned back in his chair. Someone knocked on the door and he perked up, straightening in his chair hoping for Skye, he said, “Come in.”

He deflated when May appeared but just managed to keep his face neutral. May gave him a look and sat in the chair facing his desk. She continued to look as she crossed her legs and laid her arms on the armrests. Her eyebrow quirked up, waiting him out, but Coulson refused to budge.

“I told you, you could give a girl a complex if you keep on like this.” She said, and settled in the chair.

His eyebrow went up and back down and he still didn’t budge, just waited her out.

“Fine, I just want you to know I’m on Skye’s side with this one.” She said and folded her arms.

“You’re on Skye’s side with what?” Coulson asked, leaning forward, genuinely confused.

May smirked and Coulson threw his hands up a little in defeat and let them land on his desk. He sort of gestured to May to continue with his left hand. May let her arms go back to the armrests, but didn’t move her body.

“Listen,” her hand came up in a calming gesture but bounced her hand as she talked to emphases certain things. “I know you love Skye.” She waited a minute to make sure he was listening. “But you need to be careful with her, sometimes, and today was a day to be aware of that.” Her hand came down and hung over the side of the chair.

“I haven’t even seen Skye today, how could I possibly have done anything to her?”

“Hmmm. Well, let’s say you’re Skye, and the guy you like, shoves you aside and pushes you away as hard as he can for six months. And then one day, he’s shot. He’s in pain, and scared and clingy and wants your attention all the time. He makes promises and swears he loves you, but then he gets better.” May folded her arms again and looked accusingly at him. “He leaves without saying anything, maybe he’s avoiding you, maybe he has a lot on his mind, but he goes throughout his day without giving you a second thought. Now, if I had Skye’s history, I wouldn’t give you a second chance. Experience would have taught me that when people throw you away, they don’t want you. Lucky for you, Skye is Skye and not me.” She stood up and leaned over to shut his mouth, which had dropped open. “Talk to her, don’t leave her out. She’s been distracted all day, because she wants to believe the best of you despite evidence to the contrary.” With that May turned to walk out.

“May…I do love her.” Coulson managed.  
With her back to Coulson, May shrugged her shoulders and glanced back. “You have a funny way of showing it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He didn’t get much done the rest of the day, and finally gave up at five. 

He went to his bedroom, hoping to find Skye working on her laptop as her habit had become. Of course, she wasn’t there.

He tried her bunk, the commissary, the lab, and some common areas, as well as the gym and the shooting range. She wasn’t in any of those places. Nobody had seen her in hours, and no matter who he asked no one had any ideas where she could be. He was pretty sure May had a clue, as she raised an eyebrow at him and walked away before he could ask anything else. 

He stood by himself for a good ten minutes thinking things through, and almost did a dance when he realized where she might be. He lowered the deck to the Bus, and went inside, closing the deck behind him. He took a look at Lola, resting empty and still wrecked and continued to the SUV and opened the door, immediately finding her on the floor, reading her tablet and looking miserable.

“Me time?” He managed, feeling horrible.

She nodded, not looking at him.

“Is,” his throat felt dry. “Is there still room for me?’ His voice was soft.

There was a long pause where she fiddled with the edge of her tablet and refused to look at him. He was about to apologize and shut the door, when she nodded slowly. There was no more room on the floor with her, so he sat in the same chair he’d sat in before and laid his hand on top of her head and stroked it, much as she had comforted him in the past weeks. He threaded his fingers through the strands and moved all the way through to the tips and then came back to her forehead and repeated the gesture, over and over again. Time passed, he didn’t know how much…minutes…hours. It didn’t matter. Making Skye feel like she matters did.


	6. Crossing the Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one took forever. I have never, ever, ever written smut, and I don't know what possessed me to write it now! I tried and that is the important thing here. Please review, I would like to know if it was any good or not!

Coulson sat with his back against the headboard, looking over at Skye’s laptop screen as she furiously typed away. She was working on some sort of hack for something that wasn’t time critical. It may pan out to be something, or it may be nothing. It was all gobbledygook to him though. He looked away at his hands that were in his lap and started to pay special attention to his cuticles, that slight hangnail on his left ring finger, and that weird bump on his thumb. He sighed, and kind of bounced his hands in agitation as he looked away. He wished he knew where to start.

Weeks had passed. Weeks. 

He finally got up to running three miles and was able to do it for a solid week before Simmons would consent to let him back in the field. That was really the end of the good news for a while, as the carving episodes slowly started to ramp up, stealing nights and then days from him, until he was carving on every available surface and every day he was losing more and more sleep. Skye, of course, knew that he was coming to bed less and less, since she was sharing his bed, and she became increasingly worried about him. Apparently, not as worried as Coulson eventually became, who volunteered to strap himself into the Memory Machine, locked Skye into the cell in the basement, and took off to try to solve the puzzle. He unearthed a mystery city, the end to his compulsion and a fuming Skye, who refused to talk to him, after he had left her behind and run headlong into danger without backup, more importantly, without her. Without discussing it with her, breaking his promise to do better by her. 

He slept for close to three days after the carving stopped, off and on. When he woke up for brief periods, he would find Skye still sleeping beside him during the nights, despite being angry with him. He felt blessed to have her. It took a couple more days of groveling, and a breakfast in bed to gain her forgiveness. She had really been more scared than angry and needed a few days to get her head straight more than anything. He just couldn’t stand to have her so close, yet so distant with him. He was so good at shoving people away; it was a dose of his own medicine really. He found he didn’t like to be on the receiving end of it, himself. 

Now, a week had gone by, and he was well, Skye had forgiven him, and they were back to their routine they had barely established before the carving started to take over. Their routine was lacking in one key detail though, sex. They still hadn’t progressed much past first or second base, stalling out before it could get much more passionate than a few kisses and then his job as Director intrudes, or they are in the middle of a mission, or he was just too tired to get much interest. Tonight for example, what Skye was currently working on, could wait until the morning, but Coulson was kind of sure that Skye had brought it just to distract herself from him, because she thinks that he thinks that he’s not ready. And he did think he wasn’t ready, until tonight. Tonight he feels good and energized and very, very interested. But now, he’s not sure where to begin. He’s never been in a relationship where he’s been sharing a bed for over two months and never been on a date or had sex. Usually, by this stage, they would have a little shorthand worked out; a couple of touches, some suggestive dialogue and both parties would have a general idea with how the evening would turn out. Not only did he and Skye not have this worked out yet, but also he hadn’t done a sexual relationship since before he died, many months before he died, in fact. He and Audrey had not been together because he was on assignment with the Avengers and so they were not living together while he was gone. 

He turned on his side to face her and slowly reached his hand out and traced her skin, just below the sleeve of her sleep shirt. At first it was so light that Skye didn’t notice right away, but as his fingers started to press deeper into her skin he noticed her lip curve up even as she continued to hack into the bank accounts of some senator. He began to inch up under the sleeve, heading to her shoulder and he propped his head up on his other hand and started to have a little fun, seeing how far he could get before she gave up on the hack, or if he could get her to give up.

He drug his fingers down her arm to her wrist and enjoyed her slight shudder she gave with the sensation. Her wrist was propped on her knee, so naturally he traced down to her knee and then worked his way slowly up her thigh till he came to her hem of her sleep shirt and then went under it. She was sitting cross-legged with her computer perched on her lower legs, which left his path unimpeded. He rucked up her shirt to where her leg and pelvis meet, and began to trace patterns with his fingertips and occasionally rub her whole expanse of leg with his palm. 

Skye suddenly picked up her laptop and slid down in the bed so that her shirt moved up to her waist, exposing herself below the belt, as it were, because she was wearing no underwear, and placed her computer on her stomach and continued to type. She crossed one ankle over the other, though, as if to say she wasn’t going to make this entirely easy for him.

He smirked a little and looked up at her face. She didn’t look back only raised an eyebrow and kept typing. He settled a little lower, and propped his head onto his left hand and kept touching her right leg, moving onto the left leg, and back but not going anywhere else.

Then suddenly he decided to up the game and lunged for her legs, trapping her thighs under his chest and putting his thumbs under the lips of her most intimate place and pulling up, so that her clit was fully exposed to him. Then he started to lick it, slowly. Skye at first ignored him and only squirmed a little, but soon started to stretch her leg muscles and try to roll her pelvis. His weight immobilized her and soon she was setting her laptop on the bedside table. She tried to grab at the back of his head, and he stopped and raised himself up. He took both hands and placed them on her thighs lifting them up and placing her feet on his shoulders and grabbed her floundering hands and directed them under her knees to hold the legs into place. Phil now had full access to a very wet and turned on Skye and his hands free to be much more creative. He began to stroke his finger into her and then added another, twisting and bending his fingers at just the right spots and went back to worrying her clit with his tongue. It didn’t take long for her to find release. 

While she was coming down, he was crawling up her body and was kissing her lips before she even was able to see straight again. She started to pull off his clothing, even as she still gasped for even breaths. He was soon completely nude and her sleep shirt was pushed all the way up above her breasts. 

He stopped for moment to slow his breathing and lay his forehead against hers, as she gently ran her fingertips along his ribs, tickling his sides and making his skin erupt in goose bumps. He smiled and ran his hands up to cup her cheeks as he balanced on his knees and elbows. “I won.” He said softly.

She snorted and looked into his eyes, albeit a little cross-eyed, since he was so close to her. “I think I won that one. Besides, what got into you tonight?” She griped his shoulders and then traced down his shoulder blades stopping short of the exit wound on his back that matched his scar on the front. 

He sighed a little, “It was just time. If I put it off any longer it would be for stupid reasons, and not for any good reason really.” He moved his face to her neck not wanting to be under her stare any longer and started to kiss her shoulder and neck, partly to distract her, and partly to keep the momentum going. 

Skye groaned a little and raised her legs up to his waist to pull his body on top of hers and used her hands on his shoulder blades to push his chest into hers. Softly, she whispered into his ear, “I don’t think that being scared, because this is a different situation than you’ve ever been in before or being exhausted, because of recovering from a gun shot and alien juice are stupid reasons for wanting to wait. I’m happy with waiting longer if you want to.”

His hands dropped to the sides of her face and he stilled a little. He didn’t know what to feel, whether to laugh or to cry. She was exactly what he needed, and he had never wanted anybody like this. He was so content to just call it quits and lay in her arms until someone made him move. Skye was so comforting, and compassionate, loving, and warm. She’ll call him on his bullshit and she would probably be the one to make him move, because she would know that it was better for him to not hide away, like he wants to right now. He was also quite turned on, throbbing almost painfully, and he wanted Skye.

He levered up to look into her eyes and thrust into her slowly. Skye let out an almost inhuman growl, and if he hadn’t seen the look on her face when she did it, he would have thought her to be in a great deal of pain. That wasn’t pain and it spurned him on, drawing back quickly to thrust just as slowly the second time and then set a maddeningly slow pace, as Skye’s eyes slipped shut and she turned her head on the pillow, raking her fingernails down his back. He went to kissing and pulling on her nipples with his lips, alternating techniques and breasts, and using a free hand to roll the other nipple. 

He felt her walls pulse and he sped up his pace, getting little grunts from her as he became a little rougher until her eyes flew open and she tensed completely up. He didn’t last very long after that, one or two more thrusts and he followed her, tensing every muscle and then relaxing boneless into her arms. As he got his breathing under control, he realized she was talking to him quietly, his name over and over, “Phil,” and “love you.”

He snuggled into her embrace, feeling the safest and most wanted he has ever been.


End file.
